Sway

Summary: After a rocky start, Claude fixes the error of his ways and discovers what Esmeralda truly has to offer besides her body.

Disclaimer: I do not own the Hunchback of Notre-Dame or any of its plots and characters. This is simply for entertainment purposes. All rights belong to Disney and Victor Hugo.

Song: Sway by Dean Martin

When Marimba rhythms start to play

Dance with me, make me sway

Like a lazy ocean hugs the shore

Hold me close, sway me more

Esmeralda paced back and forth within the rather large bedchambers. The door was locked, the key being held by someone else, keeping her hostage. Her hands trembled as she waited, a vile thought forming in her head, the familiar vision nauseating her. She was used to the constant nightmares and visions that would haunt her and despite all attempts to push them back, they grew with the anxiety that threatened to consume her and pull her into the darkness.

For weeks, she continued on within the same sequence. She would wake with Frollo next to her. He would leave to change and prepare his office for the day. She would be expected to be at the dining hall for breakfast within the time of mere minutes. She would then be locked in her room for most of the day. The only way she would be able to know what time it was was by the thunder of the bells of Notre-Dame, signaling that the next hour has arrived and confirming the previous hour spent in captivity.

The Gypsy Queen swore as each hour passed by, the bells will ring further and further apart. The time she remained in solitude was dull, uneventful, and mind-numbingly boring and half the time she was close to have a mental breakdown, as though her sanity was dripping away and she didn't have much left to give. She would spend most of her day gazing upon the people of Paris, memorizing certain people's routines depending on whether or not they were seen often. She would watch couples chat, kiss, hug, walk hand in hand. A young child helping his elderly grandmother, she would watch the children scurrying past and their mothers following, threatening them with a baguette in their hands. That was what Esmeralda found most amusing.

Occasionally, out of the corner of her eye, she caught sight of Clopin and her eyes, her heart, everything but her voice screamed out for him to rescue her from her prison. She wouldn't dare scream. Not only would it be useless but also it would attract Frollo's attention and his anger and she needed neither. But despite the absurdity of it, she continued to silently cry out for help.

Seven. The bells struck seven times. That indicated the time when the foreboding fear set in and on cue, his footsteps could be heard and her sense became sharper as his footsteps came closer. She would tremble, pray, silently cry at times depending on how helpless, how weak she felt that day. Hell, sometimes when she felt the fear claim her, she would begin contemplating whether or not it was worth it to give up her dignity and plead for mercy as though he was God Himself, standing above her to judge her wrong doing and no matter what she did, despite how good it was, to be condemned with the same decision of damnation. But as the door swung open like every other day for the past two months, nothing of the sort occurred. Well, she didn't beg but he did stand over her and as she came face to face with Claude Frollo, she was struck motionless.